


Wet Paint

by assbuttsinlove



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, Jock!Dean, M/M, Paint Party, Praise Kink, alcohol use, artist!castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-27
Updated: 2014-08-27
Packaged: 2018-02-14 23:22:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2206911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/assbuttsinlove/pseuds/assbuttsinlove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Castiel is dragged to a paint party and bumps into his biggest crush, the quarterback on the university football team, Dean Winchester.  After a couple beers, Castiel is surprised to discover that Dean has a couple secrets of his own.<br/>~<br/>Hael smiles enigmatically and cocks an eyebrow.  “You know, I heard Dean Winchester was gonna be there,” she says delicately.</p><p>Cas swallows thickly and suddenly his mouth is dry.  In his chest, his heart thumps out a wild rhythm.  Dean Winchester, he thinks. He looks up at Hael and he can see victory dancing around in her eyes.</p><p>He is so fucked.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wet Paint

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lemonsorbae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemonsorbae/gifts).



> Written for the cutest girl in the world, [Fea](www.jimmynovakisaved.tumblr.com) Happy Birthday, bub.

“Come _on,_ Castiel, don’t be a sourpuss!” Hael whines. 

Cas glances over at her and rolls his eyes.  They’re sitting in the library, Cas, attempting to study, and Hael, attempting to coerce him into attending some stupid party at a Frat House on Friday night.

“I’ve already told you, Hael. I don’t _want_ to go to anymore parties.  I’m partied out, I’m tired,” he says gruffly before turning back to his Psychology text book. 

Hael huffs at him indignantly. “You’ve been to a grand total of two parties since the semester started, Cas, and one of them was a poetry reading so it doesn’t even count!”

“There was beer and wine,” Cas says dryly. 

Hael glares at him and shakes her head. Castiel is one of her best friends, but God knows he needs to learn how to have a little more fun every once in a while.  She begins to wrack her brain for an idea, for something that would make Cas come to this party with her.  She rubs her chin thoughtfully and then she smiles.  She folds her arms across her chest and leans back in her chair, waiting for Cas to notice her silence. 

Eventually, he looks up and frowns at her.  “Why are you so quiet?”

“It’s a _library_ , Cas,” she snaps.

“Seriously.  You not talking is making me feel quite uncomfortable.”

Hael smiles enigmatically and cocks an eyebrow.  “You know, I heard Dean Winchester was gonna be there,” she says delicately.

Cas swallows thickly and suddenly his mouth is dry.  In his chest, his heart thumps out a wild rhythm.  _Dean Winchester,_ he thinks. He looks up at Hael and he can see victory dancing around in her eyes.

He is _so_ fucked. 

~

The music is loud and annoying and Cas hates it already, but Hael is eagerly dragging him inside and looking around for the alcohol.  She had told him to dress in something he didn’t mind getting dirty, and so he had slapped on an old t-shirt that he didn’t care much about anymore, and a ratty pair of shorts. 

Hael had opted for a pair of short jeans and a white t-shirt but Cas knew she was wearing a bikini underneath. “Oh, I forgot to mention that it’s a queer party so, feel free to mingle and flirt,” she whispers.

Cas makes a face.  “Wait, what?”

“Oh yeah, a queer _paint party_ , so get ready to get messy!” she says excitedly.

Cas rolls his eyes and groans inwardly. _This is really going to suck_ , he thinks.  Several people walk past him and he can already see paint dripping from their bodies.  They walk down the hallway and as they enter the living room, they are plunged into a thick, palpable darkness. Lights flash on and off, greens and blues and yellows. He sees people dancing around him with each flash of light.  There’s so much skin, much more skin than he’s used to, and so much paint. He hears laughter and moans, he can smell the yeasty scent of beer lingering in the air, along with what smells like weed and he wrinkles his nose.  His heart drops into the pit of his stomach when he realizes something quite terrible. 

There’s no _way_ he’ll be able to find Dean in here.   

Hael had played him, she had played him good.  He glances over towards a table tucked neatly in the corner, the makeshift bar.  It’s covered in countless of bottles of liquor and chasers.  On the floor, there are two giant coolers, filled with beer, and a couple kegs.

“Let’s get a drink!” Hael shouts.

Cas glares at her but he reluctantly follows her over to the table.  He’s already here, he might as well enjoy some of the free liquor. They walk past two girls painting sloppy hearts onto each other’s chests in bright yellow paint. He does a double take when he realizes that it’s his older sister, Anna.  He presses his mouth into a thin line but doesn’t say anything. He feels Hael’s fingers curl around his wrist as she pulls him towards the bar. 

“What do you want?” she shouts over the music. 

Cas shrugs.  He’s not sure how to feel.  His sister is here, he knows for sure that he’ll never find Dean in this mess, and all he wants to do is go sit somewhere in a corner and just wait for it all to be over.  “Beer,” he says halfheartedly. 

“You drink beer, Novak?” someone asks from behind him. 

Cas sucks in a breath and turns around. It’s Dean Winchester.

Dean is smiling at him and chewing lightly on his bottom lip. 

Even in the spotty, strange lighting, Cas can make out all of the freckles on Dean’s face.  The light flashes and he catches a glimpse of Dean’s green eyes.  He’s trying his best not to look too surprised that Dean even knows his name.  Suddenly, several things hit him all at once. For starters, he’s talking to Dean Winchester, his biggest crush on earth, secondly, he’s at a party, a _queer_ party, and although Cas has heard hushed rumors about Dean’s sexuality floating around campus, seeing him here kind of seals the deal for him, and third, well, this moment has potential, _so much potential_ , to blossom into something more. 

Someone taps him from behind and when he turns around it’s Hael, handing him a red solo cup brimming with beer. She winks at him and walks away, leaving him to fend for himself against the handsome quarterback of their football team.  He quickly brings the cup up to his lips and chugs about half of it down. The beer is bitter on his tongue but he swallows it quickly, not wanting to waste any time. 

“Woah, woah, slow down there, don’t choke,” Dean says raising a hand.  He smiles at Cas and lifts his own cup in a toast.  “A toast?” he asks, a twinkle in his eye.

Cas swallows thickly and nods. “Sure.  What are we toasting to?”

Dean makes a face and then shrugs. “To a good time?” he asks innocently. 

Cas hesitantly knocks his cup with Dean’s.  Is Dean _flirting_ with him? He’s not sure. He can’t tell. His head is all screwed up and his heart is in his throat and the lights are driving him crazy but, something inside of him tells him that Dean is most _definitely_ flirting with him. 

“So um…” Dean’s voice trails off and he rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. 

Cas frowns and squints. Is Dean blushing? In the lights, it’s hard to tell.

“Do you have…anyone to paint?” Dean asks, his voice losing some of its usual bravado.  He looks like a little boy, fumbling around on the playground, unsure of what to do or say.

Cas holds back a smile and shakes his head.  He wonders if perhaps it’s time for him to be less timid, and instead, flirt back. “I’ve actually never been to one of these parties.  How does it work?” he asks before taking another sip of his beer.  He can feel it already, warmth spreading in his cheeks. It’s not much but it’s pleasant. He drinks some more.

“Well.  We grab some paint and then we have fun.  We paint each other, and then…we….”

Cas cocks an eyebrow. “And then?”

Dean licks his lips and smiles. “And then comes the best part.”

“Which is?”

Dean takes a long sip of his beer and then wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.  “Then we get to wash it all off in the shower,” he says with a wink. 

Cas gulps down the rest of his beer. His heart drops into the pit of his stomach, swimming in a sea of beer, drowning, perhaps, and he realizes that he had been right yesterday, when Hael had invited him to this stupid party.

He is so fucked. 

~

If someone had told Castiel that on Friday night, he would be standing across from Dean Winchester, tipsy, and half naked, body dripping with luminescent paint, he would have laughed in their face and been on his way.  As Dean drags his fingers across his chest, making a huge X in hot neon pink, Cas shivers, and finds himself wondering why a guy like Dean would ever a) hang out with a guy like him at  a party like this and b) why a guy like Dean would ever find himself in an Art History class. Emboldened by the alcohol running through his veins, Castiel straightens up and looks at Dean.

“Why Art History?” he asks.

Dean stops painting and looks up. “Huh?” 

“I asked, why Art History? As an elective, I mean. Is it because it’s an easy A?” Cas asks. 

Dean grins and resumes his painting.

Cas glances down and realizes that Dean is painting a blue tie on his chest. 

Dean squeezes some more blue paint onto his hand and continues to badly finger paint a blue tie onto Castiel’s chest. “I um…I don’t know, it just seemed interesting,” he says with a little shrug. 

The lights flash brightly for a moment and Cas is able to make out a soft blush stealing across Dean’s cheeks, or maybe it’s just the alcohol. His hands itch to paint Dean.  He wants to feel him, he wants to use it as an excuse to touch his body, to run his hands along that warm, freckled skin, to memorize it and file it away for future day dreams.   

“Hey, you’re an artist right?” Dean asks suddenly. 

Cas looks up, surprised. “Yes, I am,” he says.

“I saw some of your pieces at the student art show last week,” Dean says with a smile.

Cas does his best to keep the shock off his face but he knows he’s doing a terrible job.  _Thank God for the bad lighting in here_ , he thinks.  “You went to the student art show?”

Dean nods.  “Yeah, so?  What, do you think because I’m a football player I can’t appreciate art or take an art history class?” he asks a little angrily.

Cas flushes.  “I didn’t mean it like that, Dean,” Cas says.

Dean squints at him. “Well what _did_ you mean?”

Cas opens his mouth and then closes it. What _did_ he mean? Was he being a snob?  Did he really feel that way?  That because Dean was a jock that he couldn’t like art or appreciate it?  No. No that’s not what he meant. “No I just…I found it a little hard to believe that you noticed me, that’s all,” Cas replies.

Dean stops painting and looks at him. “You think you’re not noticeable?” he asks, a skeptical look on his face.     

Cas flushes again and shrugs. “Not by…you,” he says softly.

Dean laughs and the rich sound of it warms Castiel to his core.  

“What?” Cas asks.  

Dean shakes his head and picks up a bottle of pink paint.  He squeezes some out onto his open palm and begins to slather it onto Cas’ surprisingly muscled shoulders.  “Nothing it’s just that...it’s funny that you think...ah, shit, nevermind,” he mumbles.

Cas frowns.  “No, Dean, tell me.  What is it?” he asks, intrigued.  

“I…” Dean begins.  He stops painting Cas’ arms and slowly reaches up for Cas’ face.  He applies a splotch of paint on his cheek and he grins, he blushes.  “I’ve kinda...had a crush on you for a while,” he says softly.  

Cas’ eyes nearly pop out of his head.  “Wait, _what_?”

“Yeah, um, it was ever since...last semester when we had that giant English seminar class, I sat all the way in the back, you probably didn’t notice me.”

Cas swallows and he almost burst out laughing because of _course_ he had noticed Dean.  Who hadn’t? But still, it doesn’t make sense.  “What did you have a crush on?  On the back of my head?” he asks with a little grin.  

Dean rolls his eyes.  “No it was...ever since that day you stood up to Professor Moseley,” he admits.  

“What?”

Dean sighs.  “You know, one day she made an offhand remark about...football players not being so bright and how they never really put any effort into their studies…” his voice trails off.

Cas’ face colors as he remembers.  He remembers how angry he had felt.  He had seen Dean in the library, studying for hours before going off to practice.  How could Professor Moseley hold such a low opinion of people?  Just because they played sports somehow meant that they couldn’t excel academically?  He laughs when he realizes that he has come full circle.  

Dean shrugs and steps back.  “It’s okay if you don’t feel the same, I mean, I get it,” he says quickly.  

Cas rolls his eyes and reaches out to grab onto Dean’s wrist.  He curls his fingers around it and pulls Dean closer, feeling some extra courage bubbling in his chest from the beer.  “I want to paint you,” Cas murmurs.  

Dean’s eyes widen almost comically.

“Not just here, I want you...I want you to sit for me, I want to sketch you and paint you and kiss you,” he says.  

Dean grins.  “Do you really, or are you just yanking my chain?” he teases.  

“I can assure you, I’m not yanking anything,” Cas rumbles.

Dean laughs and shakes his head.  “You’re so weird, Novak.  It’s why I like you.  You’re all grumbly and you squint a lot and you ask all the good questions in class,” Dean says.  

Cas blushes.  He’s pleasantly surprised to know that Dean has been paying attention to him and his little quirks.  “I’ve...also liked you for a long time, Dean, but I wasn’t sure if…” his voice trails off.

“If?”

“If you...were interested in...men,” Cas finishes lamely.  

Dean snorts.  He pauses and then he nods.  “Yeah, I...I am.  I’ve known for a long time.  I’m bisexual,” he says with a little blush.  

Cas’ heart swells, knowing how much it must have taken for Dean to say those words to him, trusting him with so much of himself.  Cas smiles and he leans in closer towards Dean.  He knows for sure that he wants to kiss him.  And he knows that if they end up in the showers together, he would be open to something more, but for now, he’s content with just a kiss.  

He licks his lips and looks into Dean’s eyes.  “May I kiss you?” he asks.

Dean grins and nods.  “I thought you’d never ask.”

~

They spend the next half an hour making out like teenagers in a dark corner of the room.  

Dean has his fingers tangled in Cas' hair, getting paint smeared in the dark mass.

Cas doesn't even mind and he presses his body against Dean's, wanting to be closer to him.  He moans softly as Dean's other hand reaches around to cup his ass.  

The both of them are covered in paint, bodies glowing under the black lights. There's a large red handprint on Dean's shoulder from where Cas had possessively clasped onto it, his nails digging little half moons into his skin.

Cas, feeling more relaxed and less inhibited, leans in towards Dean, pressing his lips up against his ear.

"What do you say we hit the showers?" he murmurs.

Dean pulls back and smiles. "I'm down if you're down," he says with a wicked grin.  

Cas nods and he allows Dean to take his hand to guide him through the dark.

~

The bathrooms are blessedly empty and the climb into a stall towards the back. Dean secures the latch on the door and then turns around only to find Castiel already stripping out of his pants. They had long abandoned their shirts in exchange for body paint.

Now, seeing each other in the fluorescent lighting made them realize how silly they looked covered in all that paint.

Cas turns on the faucet and a stream of ice cold water comes shooting out. They both instinctively step back and they laugh. After a few more moments of fiddling with the taps, the water becomes pleasantly warm and Cas steps under the spray. He feels Dean step behind him and he leans back, enjoying the solidity of Dean's body pressed up against his own.

“So this is the fun part?” Cas asks, his breath hitching in his chest. 

“Uh huh,” Dean says. He reaches forward for a bar of soap that had been left in the holder and he begins to lather it up between his hands.  He starts with Cas’ back, rubbing him down, making sure he washes off all the paint that had stuck to his skin.  When he’s satisfied with that, he turns him around and begins to soap his torso. His hands drift down towards Cas’ belly, pausing over his belly button and then stopping right above his cock. 

They stare at each other for a moment, neither of them breathing.  The only sound is the rush of the water splattering against their skin and on the cool tiles and Cas nods lightly. 

Dean immediately curls his fingers around Cas’ cock and begins to stroke his thick length.  He squeezes down on it lightly, flicking his thumb across the slit and smiling when Cas’ entire body shudders.   

Cas’ head lolls back slightly and his lips part as Dean continues to jerk him off.  He can feel his orgasm slowly building, pleasure rising up from the soles of his feet, bubbling in the pit of his stomach. His veins are filled with warmth and heat and his face is flushed.  The warm water pouring down on him isn’t helping and he closes his eyes. Dean’s name flutters up to his lips, a silent prayer. 

“You’re so beautiful, Cas,” Dean mumbles.  “So beautiful for me…so good for me,” Dean murmurs. 

The words send Cas’ brain into overdrive.  Just hearing Dean say those things to him, praising him, he feels his heart swell in his chest and it threatens to burst. 

“You gonna come for me, Cas?” Dean asks.

Cas chokes out a sob and nods. He’s so close now, and Dean is working him over good.  His hands are a little rough, _football_ , Cas thinks, he gets an image of Dean on the field, running with the ball, but it doesn’t last long because Dean is talking to him again, coaching him through his orgasm. 

“I’m gonna come,” Cas mumbles.

“Open your eyes, Cas,” Dean says.

Cas opens his eyes and he looks at Dean. Most of the paint has washed off from his body.  Color swirls at their feet and down the drain, a symphony.  None of them come close to the green of Dean’s eyes, the delicate brown of his freckles, the pinkness of his lips. 

“Come for me, Cas,” Dean whispers.

Cas gasps, and then he lets out a broken moan as he comes hard, come spurting out of his cock and splashing onto Dean’s hand.  He lets out a soft whine as Dean continues to stroke him, milking him for every last drop. Chest heaving, he sags forward, pressing his face against Dean’s shoulder. 

“Hey, hey, you good?” Dean asks.

Cas laughs and nods. “I’m fine, Dean. Thank you that was…very pleasant,” he says with a smile. 

Dean snorts and reaches behind him to cup his ass in his hands. He kneads the pliant flesh and smiles. “You’ve got a nice butt here for an artist,” Dean teases.

Cas pulls back and frowns. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks.

Dean shrugs and smiles. “You got a nice ass, Novak,” he says, slapping it playfully. 

Cas laughs and presses his palms against Dean’s chest.  “I guess it’s your turn, huh?” he asks with a smug grin. 

Dean blushes.  “I guess so,” he mumbles. 

Cas cocks an eyebrow and pushes Dean back towards the wall.  He slowly sinks down to his knees and looks up at Dean.  “Well then.  I had a little something different in mind,” he says, a wicked grin on his face.   

Dean licks his lips and grins.

~

“Not exactly how I pictured our first date would go,” Dean admits. 

They’re both shivering, making their way back to Cas’ dorm room.  Cas snorts and shakes his head.  “Were you planning on asking me out on a date?” Cas asks.  He folds his arms across his chest in an effort to stay warm. 

“Yeah, eventually.  When I…grew a pair,” he says with a laugh.

They quicken their pace when as Cas’ dorm building rises in the distance.  He fishes his key card out of his pocket and as soon as they get up to the door, he swipes it and lets them in.  Warmth envelopes them immediately and they both stop shivering.

Together, they walk up to the third floor and down the hall to Cas’ room.  Once inside, Cas immediately pulls off his pants and slips into his pajamas. He finds something for Dean to wear and tosses it his way. 

“You’re welcome to spend the night if you want to.  It’s pretty cold out there and somehow I can’t see you walking across campus in my ratty old PJ’s,” Cas teases.  He walks over to his bed and crawls in beneath the fluffy blanket.  He tosses some books off the side of the bed and pushes his pile of laundry to the foot and he stares up at Dean.  A part of him can’t believe he’s actually doing this, that this night had actually happened. 

As easy as pie, Dean crosses the span of the room and climbs into the bed next to Cas.  “Definitely not how I pictured our first date would go,” Dean says with a little yawn.  He snuggles up next to Cas and closes his eyes.

Cas throws an arm around Dean’s waist and pulls him close.  “What were you picturing?” he asks, a small smile on his face. 

Dean grins.  “I had the whole thing planned out. A museum, dinner, coffee, dessert, with sporadic bouts of making out peppered in between,” he says sleepily.

Cas huffs out a laugh. “Well, there’s always tomorrow, Dean,” he says.  He presses a soft kiss against Dean’s shoulder and closes his eyes.

Dean smiles and nods. “Yeah, tomorrow,” he says just before he drifts off to sleep. 


End file.
